


Always Be Yourself (Unless You Can Be Mermaid)

by FickleBiscuits



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And work as firefighters apparently, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Evan "Buck" Buckley, But only like tiny angst, Crack Treated Seriously, I don't think you can write a story about firefighting mermen without it counting as crack, I just created a tag you guys!, M/M, Mates and mating, Mer!Eddie, Oblivious Evan "Buck" Buckley, but that's how we roll in this firehouse, mermaids exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-20 22:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30012147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FickleBiscuits/pseuds/FickleBiscuits
Summary: “Mers have...three stages of mating.” Eddie said, quiet and deadly serious as he stared Buck square in the eye. "You and I, we're in the second stage."Buck let out a laugh, small and nervous and habitual to fill the silence. When Eddie didn't take it back, just kept watching him, Buck swallowed hard."Bullshit."
Relationships: Evan "Buck Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Firehouse 118 - Relationship
Comments: 19
Kudos: 195





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The mer lore is inspired by and drawn heavily from the fantastic Joe Lawson's 'Between The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea'. Credit to them and if you like Hawaii 50, or Steve McGarrett/Danny Williams, I cannot recommend it highly enough.  
> 

Edmundo ‘Eddie’ Diaz was not the first mer Buck had ever worked with. In SEAL training, over half his class had been from one of the myriad Atlantic, Mediterranean, or Pacific tribes, and before that, when he’d been tending bar down in the baja, mers and locals and tourists mixed together night and day like cocktails. Colorful fins, filly dresses and flashes of teeth that erupted into angry fists and shouts. Buck had worked with mers, befriended mers, even slept with a few when the mood struck. Buck didn’t have a problem with mers.

He just. Didn’t like Eddie Diaz.

“Play nice.” Bobby shot him a hard look, the one he usually reserved for the: ‘these fire trucks are not your personal limousine’ talks. They hadn't had one of those in years.

“We’re cool, Bobby. Ice cool.” Buck said like he had no idea what his captain was talking about. The eyebrow Bobby gave him said he was very full of shit and that Bobby was well aware of it. But Bobby, either too tired to deal with Buck’s drama, or deciding to give him the chance to prove he could be a grown up, just took a long, deep breath and walked out of the locker room. Buck’s eyes wandered after him as he made his way up the stairs to his office. Outside in the main room, Eddie was stripped out of his bulky fire jacket, but was still trudging around in his suspenders and boots, cleaning and checking the equipment they’d used on their last call. He was fucking smiling, laughing at something Hen said from across the room. 

Buck tucked his shirt over his head and wondered why Bobby was riding him about his attitude. It’s not like he’d punched the guy or done anything to sabotage him in the field. As long as it wasn't effecting their work relationship it wasn't a big deal, right?

Buck pulled the strap of his bag over his head and ducked out the door. He made a beeline for the exit, without his usual round of boisterous farewells and hoped no one noticed. It’d been a long night, and he just wanted to go home and not be around the mer who sets his teeth on edge.

Chimney caught sight of him halfway to the open bay doors and called loud enough for his voice to echo off the tall ceiling. “Hey, Buck where are you going? Cap’s making breakfast.”

Buck put on a smile and turned. He could see Eddie and Hen peering at him out of the corner of his eye and shrugged. “I’m beat, Chim, I’m just gonna head home, ya’ know? Get some sleep?”

“Huh.” Chimney said. And because apparently he hated Buck, or the universe did, added. “Skipping out on a Bobby breakfast, you’re not coming down with something, are you?”

Buck struggled to keep his smile and shrugged again. His laugh sounded wooden even to him. “Could be. Anyway, I’ll see you guys later.”

He threw a casual wave over his shoulder and left before anyone could call him back. He imagined he could feel the burn of Eddie’s eyes on him the whole way home.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Chimney tells me there’s a new boy at school.” Maddie tipped herself onto the couch beside Buck, two glasses of wine in her hand.

“Can I appreciate the irony of you handing me alcohol while insinuating I’m a child?” Buck quipped and put his glass on the coffee table. After having his sister back in his life for the last few years, Buck knew what it meant when Maddie handed him wine: it meant serious talks. Buck didn’t want to have serious talks. He wanted to mope.

Maddie, looking knowing, sat on the couch and took a deliberate sip from her own glass. She also didn’t take the obvious bait. Dammit.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Buck sighed. Pouted. Whatever.

“What’s so bad about having a new coworker?” Maddie seemed genuinely at a loss. “Chimney said he wasn’t a dick. In fact, he said that’s already being covered by someone else on the force.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “He’s a mer. His name is Eddie Diaz. And I resent Chimney’s implication that I am being a dick. I’m just not...going out of my way to hang out with the guy, why does that make me the bad guy?”

“Uh, because you don’t ‘just’ anything.” Maddie said. “Now come on, what’s going on, Evan?”

“Oh, we’re breaking out the first name?” Maddie tilted her head and looked unimpressed. Buck decided deflection wasn’t working.

“It’s nothing. It’s not a big deal.” He sighed.

“Those are two very different answers.” Maddie observed. Buck groaned and flopped back into the couch cushions. His sister watched his drama with the patience of someone who had grown up watching him fling himself off of rooftops wearing only makeshift bedspread parachutes. 

“It’s just not like you, Buck.” She said. “I didn’t think you cared about someone being a mer.”

“I don’t.” Buck exclaimed, sitting up straight again. “It’s not that he’s a mer. It’s just…” He trailed off, at a loss to describe the intangible pressure in his mind that had appeared the moment he’d walked into the station and seen Eddie Diaz in the men’s locker room.

Maddie set aside her own wine and eased herself closer to brother. She set a hand on his arm, her face furrowed with empathy and questions when Buck raised his head to meet her eyes.

“I don’t hate him.” Buck clarified. “I just don’t want to be around him.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, genuinely confused.

“He just. Makes my head hurt.” Buck said, which didn’t do anything to diminish the furrow in Maddie’s brow. Buck let out an exasperated sigh and pushed off the couch, running a hand over his face.

“It doesn’t matter. Tell Chim I’ll try not to be a dick anymore.”

“Buck-”

“Just drop it, Maddie.” Buck squeezed his sister’s hand. "I'm good."

And because his sister occasionally played the part of an angel, she did drop it, and they finished their wine in peace.

* * *

  
  
  


The yacht was already half submerged by the time the 118 arrived on scene. Buck could see the damage even standing a half-mile out on the pier, a hole the size of a basketball sat just above the waterline, appearing and disappearing from view with every cresting swell. This ship was going down, it was just a question of how long.

“Come on.” Bobby was already directing his team toward an inflatable rescue raft, one of two already in the water.

“Captain.” Eddie called. “I could go on ahead, assess the situation before you all arrive.”

Everyone knew what he was asking. Bobby considered for only a second before nodding. He held out a hand for Eddie’s shoulder bag and said. “Flip a tail, Eddie.”

“Sir.” Eddie kicked out of his shoes, hands pulling at the hem of his shirt. Buck saw a flash of hard belly and jerked his head away, hurrying to the boat. He didn’t look when Eddie placed his clothes in a pile at the edge of the pier, or when he took a running leap off the end, twisting easily into a neat dive and disappearing beneath the waves with barely a splash.

A handful of seconds later Buck spotted a flash of gleaming tail-fin in the water, torpedoing through the water toward the yacht. Then Hen was handing him something and when he turned back, there was no sign of Eddie in the wide, watery expanse. Just a boat on the near horizon full of people who needed help. Anything else was lost to the ordered ebb and flow of action, prepping their equipment for water rescue and to receive survivors.

When they came along the side of the yacht, Bobby was already issuing orders with clipped deftness.

“Captain.” Eddie pulled himself up onto the edge of the raft, perching there with his elbows sunk into the rubber, hair slick with water, skin shimmering in the oncoming twilight. Bobby crouched down to talk to him. Buck caught another flash of dark blue scales in the water, half-hidden by the dark water. Eddie looked very nearly the same in his mer form as he did his land one, at least from the waist up, but there were small differences: the membrane over his eyes, the two rows of sharp white teeth tucked carefully behind the curl of his lips, where his winning smile had been. Buck felt hot and nauseous and that weird pressure in his head was back. He wrenched his attention back to his job and getting a grapple up to the rail of the tilting deck.

“Buck, hold up.” Bobby called. “Eddie thinks there might be a better way to get at the people inside.”

“Well, if Eddie says so.” Buck muttered under his breath. Bobby shot him a warning look and jerked his head to bring him over. Buck went, begrudgingly. The closer he was to Eddie, the worse the pressure got, until it was a tingling buzz in his ears. He realized he was gritting his teeth when his jaw began to ache and had to deliberately unclench it. 

Eddie pointed to a place under the submerged half of the boat. “There’s another hole on the starboard side, large enough for me to pass through. It leads up through the hull to the main hall. I could sweep the submerged half for survivors and use that hole to pass them through. If I had someone to get them to the boats, we could clear the boat from both ends, save some time.”

Bobby nodded. “Okay. Chimney, Hen, you’re going up top. Buck, I need you geared up for water extraction.”

Buck balked. “Why me?”

This earned him another unimpressed look. “Because I said so. Get going. We’ve only got a few more minutes before this thing goes completely under.”

Buck darted a look at Eddie. The mer’s mouth was a tight line and his eyes, still covered in dark membrane, were on Buck. Buck looked away, inexplicably self-conscious, and pulled off his shirt.

“Let’s get this over with.” He murmured and reached for his kit. It was less than a minute before he was pulling the mask over his face and sitting on the soft edge of the raft, Chim and Hen were already pulling themselves over the listing rail above him. 

Bobby bent to look him in the eye. “Be careful down there. No crazy stunts, just clear the lower deck and come back.”

Buck saluted and tipped back into the water. He barely had time to properly orient himself before a set of strong arms were being wrapped around his chest, then they were propelled through the water, his back pressed to Eddie’s chest. Buck groaned. His head felt twice its normal size and he could feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat, like one of those cartoons where the character had nailed the fuck out of their thumb with a hammer or some shit like that and it was angry and pulsing.

It was a relief when they came up to the hole Eddie had described and Eddie had to let Buck go so he could maneuver himself through first. The interior of the ship was dim, but light was filtering down from small fractures along the hull, turning the water around him more shadowed then murky. Buck turned in time to watch Eddie rise from the breach, long body and power, and for a moment his heart rate spiked in instinctual fear. Eddie, fully mer, was in his element and looked every bit the part of a primal, predatory being the folk-tales and legends painted mers as. In the gloom of the ship’s interior, Buck’s mask light caught on the long train of tail, powerful and thick with muscle that moved with the same lazy motion of a shark as he drifted toward Buck in the half-lit gloom.

Buck forced himself to take steady, deep breathes and reminded himself that Eddie was not the enemy, and he wasn’t going to eat Buck either. Eddie swam up, his hand frozen halfway between them, like he isn’t sure if it would be okay to touch Buck, or welcome. Buck motioned down the dark hall, then made a series of gestures, hopefully indicating he was going to start his search in one direction, and that Eddie should check the cabins forward. Eddie nodded and tapped his naked wrist before holding up five fingers and then the deck under them both. He wanted to meet back here in five minutes.

Buck nodded and Eddie darted past him in a rush of bubbles. He’d probably be finished with his half well before the allotted time was up. But then again, he had an advantage. Buck was just relieved that with Eddie’s departure, the pressure in his head had also gone. Not totally, but it did dull down to a barely noticeable hum. Buck swam to the first room.

He found a young man in the third room, trapped with his head inside a mop bucket and barely conscious. Buck managed to get him set with his spare oxygen and guided him back to the hull breach, where Eddie was already waiting.

The mer took charge of the young man and pantomimed to Buck himself going through the hole then tapping his wrist again, this time holding up two fingers. Buck nodded and watched both figures disappear through the breach before he turned to swim down the dark hall. If there were more survivors down here, they might not be able to last two more minutes. 

There was only one more room to check, but as he was making his way over to it Buck realized how dark it had gotten inside the wreck, then how cold the water had gotten. A chill went through him as he realized the ship had probably sunk and was currently dropping to the bottom of the ocean. He had to get out of here before he sunk too deep, but Buck was determined to clear the last room. He wasn't going to leave anyone behind.

The last room was empty except for some spare clothes floating up from a dresser drawer like some bizarre new form of sea life. Buck heaved a sigh of relief and swung around, headed back to the breach. He was starting to feel the pressure building in his chest. How deep were they already? Bobby was going to give him an earful. 'That's why we have mers on the team, Buck. That was reckless...'

Buck ducked through the doorway and was pulled up short. He had a split second of confusion then revelation, that something must have caught on his pack before his mask was filling with water. Buck swallowed half a mouthful of cold saltwater and choked, frantically grasping behind himself to try and pinch off the ruptured line, but water had already filled his mask. He was trapped in a murky blackness and his lungs were burning, already begging for air. Buck unbuckled the tank from his chest and braced against the jamb. He had to get unstuck and he had to do it quick. He pushed with all his strength and heard something behind and a little above him crack, then he was loose, at first drifting then scrambling for the exit.

He wasn’t going to make it. The firefighter in him was already calculating at the same time he was shoving those calculations aside. His head swam, throbbing fiercely, and his body was growing dangerously uncoordinated already, his limbs sluggish to respond. He recognized the signs of hypoxia. Buck kicked, arms wide and searching, and hoped he was swimming toward the exit.

Something grabbed him by the arm. Half-coherent and delirious with panic, Buck thrashed, but the hands, they were hands, not fins or tentacles or teeth, held firm, pulling the mask off his face. Buck shook his head, opened his mouth to shout, but nothing came out. He had no breath left to scream. He was only distantly aware, at first, of the pressure on his lips. It wasn’t until the first taste of second-hand air touched his starving lungs that his head cleared enough to realize another mouth was sealed to his.

He reached out and his fingers met naked skin. Eddie. The mouth belonged to Eddie.

Buck started to pull away, but Eddie’s hand curled around his head, keeping him in place as another breath pushed into him. 

Buck, feeling far more clear headed, slapped at Eddie’s chest until the mer finally pulled away. He couldn’t see Eddie, but he assumed Eddie could see him. He held up a thumb then pointed to the surface. He may no longer be in danger of drowning, but he'd prefer not to be crushed to death either. Evidently Eddie got the message because he wrapped his arms around Buck again before slicing them through the water like a...well, a fish.

Bobby watched as Hen fussed and called Buck ten different kinds of idiot while monitoring his vitals during the trip back to shore. Everyone else had already been evacuated on the other raft and by the time they made it back to the pier, Eddie was already dressed and waiting at the truck, his hair dripping a dark patch onto his collar. Bobby walked over to him and held a hushed conversation. Buck watched silently while Eddie’s mouth tightened and he nodded a lot. Warm brown eyes flicked to him. Buck ducked around to the other side of the truck, pulling himself up and in. 

No one talked while they made their way back to the station. Buck spent the ride looking out of the window opposite Eddie, trying not to feel like a kid on his way to the principal’s office.

The silence persisted through cleanup and inventory, only Chim and Hen’s murmurs present to dampen the deafening quiet. Buck rushed through his assigned chores, carefully avoiding everyone’s eye when Bobby called for him to come up to his office.

Eddie still managed to catch him on the way up. He gripped Buck by the bicep before hastily dropping his hand like Buck was searing hot to the touch. Buck still can’t quite meet his eyes, a mixture of guilt and embarrassment churning in his stomach. 

“Are you doing okay?” Eddie asked. “With...everything?”

Buck cleared his throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Alive. Thanks to you.”

He forced himself to look up at Eddie. “So...thanks for that.” He offered his hand. It wasn’t going to be weird. He wasn’t going to make it weird. Eddie didn’t deserve that, especially when it had been to save Buck’s life.

Eddie’s expression did something funny and dopey for a second before it settled into perfect neutrality. He nodded and took the hand Buck offered, squeezing his fingers and pumping once before letting his hand drop. He stepped back with a smile and a quick slap to Buck’s shoulder.

“Anytime.”

Maybe it was some lingering aftereffects of the oxygen deprivation, but as he jogged up the stairs to Bobby’s office, Buck thought that the throbbing in his head didn’t feel quite as overwhelming as it had that morning.

* * *

  
  


Things got easier after that. Eddie wasn’t a bad guy. Actually, he was a fucking badass, in or out of water. Buck knew that, had known it, but maybe he’d just been intimidated by him, a good looking mer, strong and ninja as fuck. Except Eddie never acted like he was better than anyone else on the team. He fit in. With the 118, with Hen, and Chim and Bobby and their chaotic little family. And Buck wasn’t going to deny it anymore. 

There weren’t any more water calls, for which Buck was grateful, as Bobby had intimated during their after action...discussion...that he wasn’t going to let Buck near the water again baring a state of literal national emergency, and Buck really hated being left behind for calls.

“Hey, Buck.” Eddie called from across the locker room, tucking his shirt over his head. “Where are you headed after this?”

Buck tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Well, since Bobby isn’t making breakfast, I was planning on finding my own and then sleeping for the next 48 hours.”

“Or…” Eddie pushed his locker shut and wandered over to him. “...you could come with me. I know a place that makes the best stuffed waffles on the coast.”

“Sounds good.” Buck shrugged and Eddie’s face did that kind of wobbly, complicated, happy thing again briefly before Buck was calling over his shoulder.

“Hey, Chim. Eddie and I are grabbing breakfast, you in?”

Chim smiled and opened his mouth, then he glanced over to Buck and the smile on his face froze. His eyes darted between Buck and Eddie like a hunted animal before he backed out of the room, shaking his head. “Uh, thanks, but I’ve got plans already. House plants, you're sister's...um. It's really important. Maybe next time though.”

Buck darted a look at Eddie, whose face was the picture of innocence.

Right. Just him and Eddie.

No big deal.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The waffles were absolutely amazing. And, to Buck's surprise, so was the company.

“What’s his name?” Buck peered excitedly at the phone Eddie held up, where the picture of a kid, about nine or ten, grinned back at him.

“Christoper.” Eddie sounded more fond than Buck had ever heard him when he put away his phone. The smile on his lips was small and soft and so full of love, Buck had to look away. He felt like he was back in the sinking yacht for a moment, chest tight. He stuffed another bite of waffle into his mouth.

“Do you have to get back to him?” He glanced up. Eddie’s smile was gone, replaced with a look of confused hurt. Buck straightened, still chewing and more than a little confused himself. Then he realized how that sounded.

“Shit, sorry.” He said at the same time Eddie said. “Did you have somewhere you have to go?”

The air around them grew awkward. Buck’s eyes darted around the room, but no one else is looking at them.

“Look, I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I’m just tired is all. I don’t know how you aren’t, unless it’s some mer stamina thing I don’t know about.”

Eddie’s spared having to answer by the waitress, who came to top-off their coffee and ask if she could get them anything else.

“Just the check.” Eddie said. He peered at Buck. “Unless there’s something else you want?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Buck shook his head and reached for his coffee.

Eddie smiled, that same fond smile he’d worn when talking about his son. He glanced up at the waitress and handed over a credit card. “Just the check.” He repeated.

Buck started and began to reach for his own wallet. “Wah, hold on. Let me get…”

Eddie waved his offer away. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”

“At least let me…”

“It’s fine, Buck.” Eddie reiterated calmly. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, staring intently at Buck. “I’ve got it.”

Buck felt a shivery frisson of something zing along his skin. It’s been a while since he’d gotten an Eddie headache, but something that was familiar and totally different was beginning to tighten at the base of his skull. He looked down at his plate and the last few lonely bites of breakfast on it.

“You if anything, I should be buying you breakfast.” He tried to laugh it, make it sound casual, but it got caught on quiet and stayed there. Buck winced at the faux intimacy of his tone and tried again.

“I owe you, Eddie. A lot more than a few pancakes.”

“I don’t really think of it as owing.” Eddie replied, utterly serious. “I figure there’ll be plenty of times when you’ll get to return the favor. So don’t sweat it. And let me buy you breakfast.”

“But I was a real dick to you before.” Buck shook his head and finally looked up to meet Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie shrugged. “You were, but that’s done, I’ve moved on. So should you.”

“Yeah, okay.” Buck nodded. “So we’re good?”

“Yeah, Buck. We’re good.”

The waitress returned with Eddie’s card and a flirty smile. Eddie offered her a polite smile and signed the receipt. Glancing at Buck, he jerked his head toward the exit.

Buck nodded at their waitress, who was trying her best not to look too disappointed. He grabbed his coat and followed Eddie out of the restaurant. They stopped at Buck’s car, not awkward, not really, but Eddie was staring at the bumper of his car and looked like he was trying to work up the courage to say something. Buck felt strangely nervous and he could really understand why. It was like the sensation wasn’t coming from him, like he was tuning into some remote radio signal, but was only getting every other word and a whole lot of static. He was worried about his brain. 

“You should come over sometime. Christopher would love to meet you.” Eddie said. Buck opened his mouth, closed it, then finally said.

“Sure, I love kids.” That couldn’t be what Eddie was working up to say, was it? Buck put on his most reassuring smile. The nervous feeling then melted away into warmth and Eddie tentatively returned Buck's smile. Eddie started to open his stance, going for a hug then seemed to think better of it, stopped and backed up a half-step, holding out his hand.

“Great. We can...figure out the details later.”

Buck was back to feeling weird and nervous and dammit he didn’t want things to be weird between them anymore. Obviously Eddie was still not sure about him, which was totally fair since Buck had been a jerk to him for weeks. So he was going to make sure Eddie knew Buck was completely, and totally, 100%, okay with him. Buck stepped into Eddie’s space and pulled him into a big hug, thumping the man’s back.

For a second Eddie returned the embrace, his big arms weaving around Buck and it was so impossibly satisfying that Buck was nearly overwhelmed by the sensation when it hit him. Then Eddie was stepping back and the satisfaction slipped sideways to loss and regret. Buck wanted to pull Eddie back to him, and that was more than a little surprising. He was a huggy person, but he wasn't needy like this normally. He smiled and hoped his uncertainty wasn't apparent. Eddie gave him a half-smile of his own before climbing into his car and drifting out of the lot.

Thankfully, by the time Buck was fastening his own seat belt, the horrible, chest-hollowing ache had faded.

He decided to blame it on sleep deprivation. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Hey, Buck.” Captain Nash glanced up from the cutting board when Buck strolled into the firehouse kitchen the next day. “How are you doing?”

Buck slung his sweat towl over one shoulder and went for the Brita filter in the fridge. “Feelin’ pretty good, Bobby. Pressed 260 today.”

Bobby’s eyebrows raised and he nodded down at the bell peppers on the board in front of him. “You bulking up for something?” He asked.

“Nah,” Buck said and drained his glass, filled it up again. “I've just been feeling a bit restless lately, like I’ve gotta keep up with it, you know? I gotta keep pushing myself or it’s going to stagnate.”

Bobby chuckled. “You’re not stagnating, Buck.” Then he looked up, looked at Buck like he was trying to read something into what Buck wasn’t saying. Except, Buck wasn’t sure what it was he wasn't saying. 

Bobby said. “Is everything okay, Buck?”

“Yeah. I’m doing great.” Buck was only half-listening. He leaned over the counter and snagged a piece from the relish tray.

Bobby Nash let out a small chuckle. “Well, I can see your appetite hasn’t changed. Are you sleeping alright? Any headaches recently?”

Buck’s stomach dipped. He set his glass down carefully on the island and peered at Bobby. “I’m fine, Captain. Unless, there’s something going on that I don’t know about.”

Bobby tilted his head at Buck, like he was trying to figure out if he was being punked. Which, he wasn’t. Buck was starting to feel like someone was going to jump out with a TV camera or something and ask for an interview.

“Buck...” Bobby started.

“Hey, Captain. Buck.” Eddie cut off whatever Bobby had started to say. He looked between Bobby and Buck, jaw oddly tight. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on a conversation that’s none of my business.” Except Buck was pretty sure Eddie didn’t sound apologetic at all. In fact, he and Captain Nash were shooting fucking laser beams at each other with their eyes and Buck was starting to feel like he had missed something. Massive.

He was really confused and suddenly steeped in a tangled of feelings that didn't seem like they should belong to him: guilt and frustration and territorial? Why the fuck? Territorial over what?

Eddie looked away and mumbled a quick excuse before jogging down to the main floor. Buck watched him go while the weirdness in his brain slowly settled into a perfectly normal confusion. He turned to Bobby, who was studiously bent over his board. 

He chucked a thumb Bobby couldn’t see over his shoulder to where Eddie had disappeared. “Man, that was super weird. Is something going on?" 

“No, no.” Bobby said quickly. His knife made a rapid tap against the board. “I was just checking in with you.” He lifted his head enough to smile small.

“Right.” Buck said. “Okay. I’m just...gonna go shower.”

“Dinner’s in fifteen.” Bobby replied, still chopping.

Buck put his glass in the sink and went down to the showers. When he was halfway down the stairs, Bobby leaned over the rail and bellowed. “Diaz, get your ass up here now.”

Every eye in the firehouse turned to the Captain, who was already turning away from the rail, then to Eddie, who looked supremely uncomfortable. Buck watched as Eddie wordlessly tucked away his gear and trooped past Buck on the stairs.

“Eddie, the fuck is going on?” Buck asked, but Eddie just shook his head as he climbed past, not even pausing to look Buck in the eye.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Buck did feel a little hurt. It was hard not to when you found out your friends were keeping shit from you, and Buck was pretty sure it wasn’t work related. Eddie had been nothing but fantastic from day one, nothing worth a reprimand. Which meant it could only be a personal issue. But why was Bobby mad about it?

Buck sighed and ducked his head under the spray and let the roar of the water drown out his thoughts.

By the time he got out, dinner was ready and Eddie was gone. A text message sat on his phone, just two words:

_Dinner Tuesday?_

Buck pondered the text the rest of the night, through a wordless and super awkward dinner where everyone pretended not to stare at him, and then through a sleepless night. He wondered what massive fucking elephant he’d somehow managed to miss, and when exactly it had charged into the firehouse.

Sometime around two in the morning he typed out. _Okay. Where and When?_ And then tossed it onto his charger and pulled his pillow over his head. He’d get his answers one way or another. If Bobby didn't want to talk to him, Eddie would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hand if you're waiting for the day Eddie uses Buck's real name.  
> Get ready for some jealous, territorial, Eddie. There's a reason Buck is oblivious. I promise!

The four days leading up to Tuesday were some of the most surreal of Buck’s life. And he’d been working for the LAPD for almost five years, he’d figured he’d just about seen it all. But he wasn’t prepared for that first Friday, walking into the firehouse after the big Bobby debacle and watching every eye in the department turn to him. At once. It was like he’d stumbled accidentally onto the ‘Children of the Corn’ set or something. Chim physically ran away from him after stammering about an aneurysm. Hen just rolled her eyes like she was done with all of their shit and went back to what she was doing, gave Buck a smile and said ‘hi’.

By the time Bobby found him, Buck had that ‘camera’s going to jump out at you’ feeling again. It didn’t diminish after speaking with his Captain.

Bobby leaned against the doorway, trying to affect a casual attitude. “Hey, Buck.”

“Captain.” Buck replied, reaching for a spare uniform shirt. “What’s going on?”

Bobby shrugged. The motion looked wrong on him, like he was trying to be one of those hip dads, but kept using all the wrong slang. “I’m just checking on you. I wanted to see if you and Eddie have had a chance to talk.”

“I’m going over to his place on Tuesday.” Buck said. “I’m not sure what it is you want me to talk to him about though.”

Bobby got that same look on his face, again, the one that said he couldn’t tell if Buck was jerking him around or not. He finally sighed. “It’s between the two of you. Just so long as it doesn’t affect the team, it’s fine.”

Before Buck could ask for a little clarification, Bobby was gone.

“Have you noticed Bobby acting weird lately?” He asked Chim and Hen later while they were doing inventory.

Hen shook her head while Chim made a face like he was trying to prevent some kind of internal implosion before excusing himself. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Eddie came back on shift the next day. Buck braced himself for some natural disaster inside the house, but other than a side-eye from Hen, everything felt normal. In fact, it was one of those days that started in ‘Qu’ and ended in ‘iet’. The 118 was called out for a total of six calls, two minor car collisions, one blind date gone anaphylactic shock wrong, a man who’s one year old had locked him out of the house, and an actual cat stuck in an honest to god tree.

Things seemed totally normal, straightforward rescue, no problems, the cat didn’t even put up a fight. Right up until Buck put the animal back into its owner’s arms and the creature peed all over his shirt. 

The owner, a twenty-something with blue hair and the greenest eyes Buck had ever seen, was absolutely mortified. She kept apologizing and offering to get him one of her boyfriend’s shirts while everyone else laughed. Buck shook his head, close to bursting into laughter himself, but he didn’t want to make the girl’s day worse.

“I’ve smelled a lot worse, trust me.” He said and smiled. “I’m just glad you and Mr. Whiggens are okay.”

“I can’t possibly thank you enough.” The young woman waved as they packed and loaded, still looking like she wanted to dig a hole in the ground and crawl inside.

Hen waved a hand over her face when Buck climbed into the truck. “Oh, that is rancid.” She informed him, her nose pinching.

“Come on, Hen. We’ve all been smeared in worse.” Buck argued.

“Sure.” Chim joined in. “Except we didn’t have to smell it then.”

Their radios chirped, the calm voice of dispatch crackling to call in a request. “118, be advised, I have a W56.49XA on Venice Beach. Paramedic requested. Police units en route to the sight.”

Bobby tilted his head to talk into the radio clipped to his shoulder. “Roger, dispatch. 118 is responding.”

“I didn’t recognize that code.” Buck said as Chim pulled away from the curb. Bobby glanced over his shoulder.

“A non-tramatic shark encounter. No other details specified.”

“Yeah, but a paramedic was requested.” Buck frowned. Eddie shrugged.

“I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

* * *

  
  
  


It was probably the one time where the jewel green water off Venice beach was ever completely clear of swimmers, when a shark was spotted. The walk up to the small hubbub near the waterfront was packed with people, phones out and trying to get an idea about what had happened beyond the vague knowledge that there had been a shark attack.

When the team made it to the metaphorical eye of the hurricane, the young woman was sitting on a towel, a thermal blanket wrapped around her naked shoulders. She was shivering, despite it being nearly 90 degrees. Hen knelt next to her, already peppering the lifeguard with rapidfire questions. Meanwhile, Bobby had his head together with the headguard getting the details of the attack.

“She’s in shock.” Hen said just as Athena strolled in, aviator glasses gleaming in the sunshine. Buck enjoyed how when Bobby saw her for a second his smile went a bit wobbly. He’d tease him for it later.

Athena smiled at her husband then turned, all business, to the same headguard he’d been talking to. “What happened?” 

“She was on a float and claims she fell asleep. She drifted out about a quarter of a mile and was given a warning by the on-duty guard but didn’t respond. We were just sending someone out to retrieve her just in case of seizure or heart attack when her float deflated and she began actively drowning.”

“We were called in for a shark encounter.” Bobby interjected. Athena’s eyebrows rose. The headguard nodded and looked at the traumatized woman.

“She was screaming about a shark when we got to her. She was nearly hysterical, kept talking about teeth and then went into shock almost as soon as we got her onto the rescue raft. We retrieved the float.” He jerked his head at a lump of green plastic sitting off to one side of the perimeter and shrugged.

“I thought you might want to take a look.”

“I would.” Athena nodded. “Thank you.” She excused herself and moved around to look at her evidence.

“Captain.” Buck murmured, a bit sheepish. Bobby glanced at him.

“Do you think I could...this really stinks…” He waved a hand at his shirt.

Bobby’s eyes go to the water. “You and the ocean are still on probation.” He said.

“Oh, come on, Bobby.” Buck weedled. “I won’t go past my knees.”

“You won’t go past your ankles.” Bobby corrected. “And hurry up. We might need to get her to the hospital in a minute if her condition changes.”

Buck was already headed for the water. He gave Bobby a thumbs up. Bobby seemed less convinced.

“Don’t get into any trouble.”

“It’s two inches of water, Bobby. Even _I_ can’t get into any trouble.”

Bobby’s incredulous expression didn’t change.

Buck sluiced warm water down his front, using handfuls of sand to scrub the worst of the smell away. In this heat, the wet spot would dry in minutes. He didn’t usually mind the various bodily fluids they encountered on a regular basis, but hot cat piss was a uniquely vile sensory experience. Even the bile-bloated body they’d had to deflate hadn’t smelled this bad.

“Excuse me.” Someone said from his elbow. Buck glanced over. An objectively hot man was standing to his right, combing fingers through a shock of blond hair, board shorts slung low on narrow hips. Hazel eyes crinkled as he smiled, curving a generous mouth.

The man jerked his head at the gathering of emergency responders. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, I can’t really talk about an ongoing incident.” Buck splashed one last handful of water down his front to get the last of the sand off. The man’s eyes followed the motion. Then lingered. When he looked up again, he offered his hand.

“Brady.”

“Buck.” Buck gripped his hand, offering his own professional smile in return. Brady didn’t seem deterred.

“We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on. They cleared the water for a shark attack, but when they pulled her out of the water, there wasn’t any blood and you guys still haven’t taken her to the hospital.”

“Yeah.” Buck turned to face Brady a little more fully. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk about the details. The lifeguards will be able to tell you when it’s safe to return to the water.”

Brady smiled. “I understand...officer?”

Buck laughed. “Nah, uh...we’re just ‘firefighter’ No fancy titles or shorthand. Just the job.”

Brady’s laugh was mellow. “Well I'm definitely glad the job brought you here...firefighter Buck.” His eyes blazed another meandering trail down Buck’s torso. He was flirting, Buck realized. He let out a short, self-conscious laugh, hand going to the back of his neck as he ducked his head.

“Thanks, I’m really flattered...” He was saying just as Eddie came up, hot like someone had lit a fire under him. He put himself between Buck and Brady, spine straight. Buck thought he caught a flash of too-sharp teeth as Eddie said.

“Who’s the tadpole, Buck?”

Brady smiled at Eddie and _his_ teeth were definitely mer-sharp. And holy shit he was a _mer_. “My name’s Brady. Did I swim into contested waters, minnow?”

“Back off.” Eddie bit back, practically vibrating with anger. Buck put and hand on his friend’s shoulder, trying to calm him, or at least let him know he was fine.

“Hey, it’s okay, Eddie. It’s not a big deal.”

Eddie shrugged off his hand. “It’s a big deal if I say it’s a big deal, Buck.” He growled.

Buck’s eyes went a bit wide. He’d never seen Eddie lose his chill like this. Meanwhile, Brady was looking between the two of them as if this conversation were the funniest thing that had happened to him all week. Apparently he was also a bit suicidal, because he leveled a saucy smirk at Eddie and said.

“He certainly looks sweet enough, minnow. Definitely down for a good time. But if you were smart, you'd stick to your own kind like nature intended.” 

Chaos erupted. Eddie launched himself at Brady with a snarl. Buck just managed to catch him, but he was barely holding on as Eddie strained against his grip. He was pretty sure that the second Eddie figured out what was holding him back, Buck was toast. Captain Nash let out an exclamation of his own, sprinting toward them.

“What the hell is going on?” He put a hand out to Brady, who took a step back as Bobby inserted himself between the two mers. Buck had seen people lose fingers that way.

“Diaz.” Bobby snapped. Eddie’s head came up and he sobered all at once in Buck’s grip. His hand gentle, Eddie reached up to tap out on Buck’s elbow.

“Sorry, Captain.” Eddie said, his voice oddly small. Another thing Buck had never heard from his friend.

“Go wait in the truck.” Bobby said, all clipped professionalism, the way he got when he was well and truly angry. He turned to Brady as Eddie extracted himself and stomped back the way they’d all come. “Are you hurt, sir?”

“No, no. He didn’t touch me.” The mer seemed totally unconcerned about what had nearly turned into a physical altercation. “I probably didn’t help myself much, I’m sorry if I offended your colleague.”

“He’s had a bad day.” Bobby said. Buck frowned, but didn’t contradict his Captain. “As long as we can put this incident behind us?”

“Oh, of course.” Brady shook his head. “I’m sorry things got so out of hand. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”

“Have a good day.” Bobby tilted his head. Buck raised a half-hearted hand as Brady trailed up to join the thinning crowd. Prick.

“Bobby, it wasn't Eddie's fault.” Buck spoke softly. “The guy was flashing teeth and talking all big and shit. He was practically throwing down a formal challenge.”

Bobby looked skyward, as if asking for salvation from hotheaded firefighters. “Thanks for the information, Buck.”

Hen called them both over then. The woman, Kelley, had recovered enough to start talking, and to shakily request an ambulance. Athena made arrangements to meet her at her residence later so they could discuss the details of the attack once she was feeling more herself. Ten minutes later, Kelley was climbing into the back of an ambulatory and still thanking Hen as she waved a weak goodbye.

“Good job people.” Bobby said, watching the ambulance depart. “Let’s load up.”

Buck tried to catch Eddie’s eye the whole ride back to the firehouse, but Eddie was terse and tense and unwilling to look at anything other than whatever was out the window. When they arrived back at the station he went immediately to the gym and spent three hours straight punching the shit out of their kickboxing bag. Buck tried to join him, a little silent solidarity, but ended up lifting on his own and called it quits after hour two. Even his newfound enthusiasm was no match for whatever it was that had crawled up Eddie’s ass.

He knew mers were territorial, and protective of their friends and family. It had been a little shocking to see that side of Eddie, not scary - he knew Eddie would never hurt him - but seeing all that violent instinct detonate in the mer who was usually so carefully composed under the most harrying circumstances. It was intense.

Buck resolved to thank Eddie. He had to make sure his friend knew he wasn’t afraid of him. He'd also make sure Eddie knew he’d been hit on by plenty of mers and he was perfectly capable of turning them down on his own.

By the time Buck returned to the second floor again, still toweling his hair dry, there was no sign of Eddie at the bag. Buck wandered to the kitchen in search of a snack. He thought there might still be a piece of that apple crumble Karen had sent over on Friday. But as he got nearer, he heard Eddie’s voice drifting from Bobby’s office. The mer was saying. “...didn’t mean for that to happen, Captain.”

Bobby, sounding exasperated, replied. “This is exactly what I was worried would happen. And why you need to tell him now, Eddie. This isn’t going to get better, especially not if you don’t want it to.”

“He’s coming over on Tuesday.” Eddie’s voice was soft, almost punched down. “I was planning on telling him then.”

“Good.” Bobby sounded apologetic now. “Look, I know this isn’t exactly an ideal…”

Eddie interrupted him. “Captain, with all due respect, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Buck could hear him taking a deep breath. “I appreciate you giving me time to work this out, and I _will_ talk to Evan. But the rest of it? Is none of your business.”

Buck made himself very scarce before Bobby could reply, his stomach in absolute knots. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught in the act. He abandoned the kitchen to try and find a book at the far end of the rec area, his back to Bobby's office.

Whatever the hell was going on, he thought, at least he knew he was going to get his answers on Tuesday. 

He wondered why the thought of it filled him with dread instead of relief. 

* * *

  
  


Buck shifted from foot to foot, trying not to appear as nervous as he felt as he stood on the front step of Eddie’s suburban walk-up, listening to the doorbell’s high chime fade. The six-pack was a comforting weight in his hand, slowly beading sweat into the cardboard carrier. Buck really hoped Eddie liked pale ale. He winced internally and made a slow circle in place, looking at without really seeing the adobe inspired facade, the clan sigil painted over the threshold, as he silently panicked. He should have asked.

Behind him the door opened. Buck whipped his head around and saw framed just inside the jagged stucco doorway stood the boy from Eddie’s phone. 

Christopher beamed up at Buck as though he were a long lost friend, not someone he was meeting for the first time. Eddie stood a little ways back to let his son open the door. He was also smiling, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, eyes on Buck.

“Buck.” Eddie said. “This is Christopher, Christopher, this is my friend Buck, the one I told you about from the firestation.”

Christopher ambled out to Buck, arms spread wide in anticipation of a hug and Buck was powerless to resist. He knelt on the stoop and returned the embrace, heart melting as Christopher laughed in his ear and said, quietly, “It’s nice to meet you, Buck.”

Buck grinned and squeezed back. He was already gone on the kid and he wasn’t afraid to admit it, he figured Ebenizzer Scrooge himself wouldn’t stand a chance against this little dude. “Hey, Christopher, It’s really good to meet you too.”

Christopher extracted himself from Buck and turned, gripping Buck’s hand in his as he made his way back into the house. He smiled at Buck over his shoulder and said. “Come on, kid, let’s get this show on the road.”

Buck laughed and looked up at Eddie, who he found watching him with that same familiar fond expression on his face. As soon as their eyes met, Eddie sobered, but still accepted the brief one-armed hug Buck offered on his way by, Christopher insistently tugging on his arm.

“Thanks for coming.” Eddie said.

Buck handed Eddie the beer and said. “I hope you like Hill Farmstead.”

Eddie accepted the package and nudged the door closed with his foot. “It’s great, Buck. I hope you don’t mind if I save them for after dinner.” He makes a face and bobs his head in Christopher’s direction. Meanwhile, Christopher had given up trying to budge Buck and was making his way solo through the living room before disappearing around a corner. 

“Hey, Buddy, remember to stay away from the stove until Buck and I get there, yeah?” Eddie called.

“Okay, Dad.” Christopher called back.

Buck put up his hands. “No, that’s fine. I totally get it. I don’t want to be a bad influence on your kid or anything.”

Eddie, who was a couple inches shorter than Buck, straightened to look him in the eye and somehow it was Buck who felt as though he was the one being loomed over. How did that even work? Eddie said, voice soft and serious. “There’s no way you could be, Buck.”

Buck’s chest tightened, and he found that he couldn’t break their eyelock, that he didn’t want to. Eddie seemed to sway closer and Buck was having trouble stringing together thoughts, everything in his head had become an impressionist painting, colors and soft, painterly brushstrokes. His stomach was light, his feet heavy and he didn’t know exactly what was happening.

From much further inside the Diaz house, Christopher called impatiently. “Come on, Buck.”

Eddie chuckled, startling Buck out of the moment. He breathed out a self-conscious laugh, looking down at the floor between them. The tension from before was gone and the space between them felt easy.

“You’d better hurry up before he decides to come back out here and get you.” Eddie warned, already walking.

“Um, hey.” Buck caught his arm. He had a reason beside spending time with his awesome friend and his awesome friend’s awesome son, he had to ask because Eddie wasn’t and he didn’t want to spend the whole night pretending that nothing was up.

“I overheard you and Bobby talking a couple of days ago.” At Eddie’s corresponding look of horror, Buck backpedalled furiously. “Just about you wanting to talk to me about something. It was an accident, I swear.”

Eddie went still and tense, his mouth thin with discomfort while he looked everywhere except at Buck. “Look, now isn’t really a good time.”

“Eddie, you know you can tell me anything.”

Eddie ran a hand over his face, said. “Yeah, Buck. I know. I will. Just...not right now.” 

Buck opened his mouth to press.

“Okay, now you’ve done it.” Christopher laughed as he rounded the corner, making a beeline for Buck. He captured Buck by the hand again and this time, Eddie was blazing a trail for them both, six-pack in hand. By the time he finished putting the beer away, he was back to grinning.

“I hope you’re hungry.” He said, rubbing his hands together.

Christopher leaned over and said, not at all quietly. “Dad’s cooking. You should order pizza.”

“Hey.” Eddie pretended offense and went hunting through his pots and pans. “Stabbed in the back by my own kid.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Buck said.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“That was such a...unique blend of spices.” Buck ribbed Eddie as they cleared the table. Eddie’s punch landed on the meat of his arm without any real force behind it.

“Hey, be thankful I didn’t subject you to my tamale.” Eddie said. “Christopher told me I should take it easy on you this time.”

“I want Buck to stay.” Christopher chimed in as he placed his own dishes into the sink. Buck’s heart warmed at the words. He nudged Christopher playfully with a hip and put one arm around him. It felt right, perfect, the way he seemed to fit in the space under Buck’s arm, it sparked something deeply, protective and paternal in him that he hadn’t known existed until that moment.

“Thanks, buddy. I want me to stick around too.”

He realized after a minute that Eddie hadn’t said anything. It was almost becoming predictable to find him just watching, silent and smiling at him. Suddenly self-conscious, Buck patted Christopher’s arm and untangled himself, reaching for more dishes. He heard Eddie say. “Christopher, why don’t you go pick a movie. Buck and I’ll finish cleaning up dinner and be there in a minute.”

“Yes!” Christopher cheered and zipped out of the kitchen so fast Buck was going to make a ‘where’s the fire’ joke. But Eddie was taking hold of the dish in his hand and Buck felt the moment stretch into something wide and undefinable as the words died on his lips.

“Thanks.” He said as Eddie turned back to the dishwasher. As was quickly becoming a pattern, Buck's head felt much clearer the more space there was between them. Eddie shrugged and tipped his head toward a cupboard in the corner.

“Tupperware’s in there, if you wanna take care of the leftovers.”

“Are you sure you want to keep this?” Buck couldn’t resist digging a little, grabbing an empty Costco Cottage Cheese container. “I think it could be considered chemical weapon stockpiling.”

Eddie cut eyes at him. “Very funny. But I seem to remember someone who went back for a second helping.”

“Hey, I was just trying to spare Christopher.”

Eddie chuckled. “You are so full of shit, Buck.”

“And you.” Buck said, tucking the leftovers into the fridge. “...still haven’t told me what Bobby got so upset at you for. Twice.”

Eddie closed the dishwasher with a click and for a second, Buck thought he was going to put him off again. But Eddie said. “I could use a beer, how about you?”

“Sure.” Buck agreed and watched Eddie pull two of the ales out of the carrier. He topped them with a soft hiss before passing one over to Buck. Wordlessly, Eddie took a long swallow. He seemed to gather himself. When he started to speak it was a little gravelly from the alcohol.

“Mers have...three stages of mating.” Eddie sounded deadly serious. He was staring at Buck dead in the eye while he spoke in an even, almost professional voice. “The first is imprinting. It’s a largely physiological and neurochemical connection that establishes attraction and physical compatibility.”

He took a deep breath. “The second is bonding. It’s a testing out period, a deepening of the imprint connection. It can last for years, or just a few weeks, depending on a number of different factors, but it largely depends on the bonding pair.

“The third...is mating. It’s permanent. Some couples never reach this phase. Some split before they hit that stage, some are just too afraid of intimacy and never completely mate.”

Eddie reached out and gently, almost reverently, took Buck’s hand in his. The bare skin of a knuckle traced over Buck’s palm, blazing a trail of sparks where it went. Buck stared, realization dawning as Eddie said: “You and I, we’re in the second stage.”

Buck let out a laugh, small and nervous and habitual to fill the silence. When Eddie didn't take it back, just kept watching him, Buck swallowed hard. 

“Bullshit.”

Eddie drew back as if Buck had physically punched him, dropping Buck’s hand in the process. The sparks faded, leaving Buck mercifully clear-headed once again, clear headed and feeling the slap of every vibration of hurt that ran across his friend’s face. Eddie gave a laugh, the short sarcastic one that came with a frown rather than a smile.

“What do you mean, bullshit?”

Buck crossed his arms over his chest, feeling defensive and wondering suddenly how much of it was coming from Eddie. “What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m not...we’re not... _mating_.” He whispered the last word, like it was shameful and realized his mistake the instant it was out of his mouth and he had to watch Eddie’s face crumble like the gutted remnants of a burned out tenement building.

“No, hey, I didn’t mean…” Buck started to say, but Eddie was already shaking his head and talking over him.

“You’re right. We aren’t. No reason to fix what isn’t broken, right?” He kept talking without giving Buck a chance. “You’re a good friend, Buck. And we’re good. Christopher really likes you. You’re welcome to come by anytime.”

“Eddie.” Buck tried again. Eddie was picking up his bottle and taking another drink. He shook his head.

“You know, it’s late and Christopher needs to get to bed.”

“No, Eddie, I didn’t mean-”

“Buck.” Eddie said loudly. He took a breath. “It’s okay. I’ll see you at the station tomorrow.”

“Eddie.” Buck shouted. “You have a _kid_.”

Eddie looked at him like he’d suddenly started speaking Portuguese. He didn’t look any less pissed though. “Yes. I do.” He said slowly.

“No, I mean.” Buck tipped his head up at the ceiling. “Don't...I thought mer’s mated for life.”

Understanding dawned in Eddie’s eyes and Buck watched as the tension slowly drained out of his body. He took a breath. “Shannon and I never mated.”

Buck wasn’t sure what to say to that, and so just said. “Oh.”

Eddie went on. “There was chemistry, we imprinted, or I did. She was human too. It was fun and we were young. Then Christopher happened. Neither of us were ready to be parents, or married, but my parents were pretty traditional and there we were. Expecting.”

Eddie shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, Christopher is the best thing that ever happened to me. I could never in a million years, regret him. But I made a lot of mistakes with his mother.”

“What do you mean? What kind of mistakes?” Buck asked, concerned and nudging half a step closer to Eddie along the counter. This whole conversation felt a bit unreal, but he was still hurt for his friend. His _best_ friend.

“We didn’t ever get to the third stage, and our bonding was pretty messy.” Eddie explained. “I was gone, on deployments mostly. When I was home we fought more than tried to connect, and by the time Christopher was seven there wasn’t much of anything left to fix. Shannon left the day after I came home from my last deployment.”

“Eddie, I’m sorry.” Buck said, wanting to reach out. He kept his hands tied to the beer bottle instead. “I can’t imagine how hard that was for you.”

“Christopher’s had it the worst.” Eddie said. “Parent bonds are ingrained from birth, it’s hard for the child to understand the loneliness when it’s gone. He’s not a full-blooded mer, but instinct is a powerful drive for homo pisces.”

“Is he okay?” Buck craned his neck so he could peer into the living room. Christopher was on the couch, his face bathed in technicolor glow, completely enthralled in what sounded like the opening cinematic for ‘Finding Nemo’. Buck had to smile a little at that.

“Yeah. I think it’s gotten easier the older he gets. He doesn’t ask about her as much anymore.”

“Wow.” Buck said, swallowed some beer. “So...no mate.”

“No mate.” Eddie confirmed.

“And you’ve imprinted. On me.”

“Bonded.” Eddie corrected gently. “...but yeah.” He was easing closer now, setting his beer bottle down with a soft ‘clink’ on the counter.

“So...why didn’t you tell me this like, ages ago? When we were…” Buck leaned back. “...in stage one?”

Eddie frowned. “Imprinting happens. It’s like a crush for a human, except ours, mers, is a little more intense. It’s really just a signal from our brain that there might be a connection to explore. I didn’t actually think it would get this far.”

So had Eddie not planned on telling him at all? Why was he telling him now? Was it just because his mer brain had turned up the heat and he couldn't ignore it anymore?

When Buck didn’t respond right away, Eddie sighed through his nose, combing a hand through his hair. “Look, I know you didn’t ask for this. I know you’re not phobic, but there’s a big difference between being okay with mers and...this.” He waved a hand between them.

Buck shook his head, and, before he could think better of it, said. “I’ve slept with mers before.”

Eddie's teeth flashed, sharp as he smiled and Buck realized with a flash of horror what he’d just said to a territorial, bonding mer. “Shit. I’m not. Currently. I’m not sleeping with anyone…”

But Eddie wasn’t listening to him. He was stepping into Buck’s space, leaning in and tilting his face up, until Buck was forced to arch backward slightly, the edge of the counter digging into the small of his back. The mer’s eye gleamed in the soft kitchen light in a way that wasn’t entirely human and Buck felt that hollow yearning bloom in his gut again. He shivered involuntarily as the scent of Eddie drifted up to his nose. Clean and salt and sand and sun.

“This is about more than just a fuck, Evan.” Eddie whispered into the small space between them. His nose touched Buck’s neck, where the pulse jumped hot and thick. Buck’s breath caught. His mouth went dry.

“Will you let me bond with you, Evan Buckley?” Eddie asked, his breath ghosting wet patterns against Buck’s nape.

“I…” Buck swallowed. “Are you asking me out?” 

“I want this.” Eddie said, which felt like a bit of a non sequitur. “I want us. But I can’t want it alone. If you tell me you aren’t interested, It’ll be done. We’ll be friends, no hard feelings.”

“It can’t be that simple.” Buck frowned. Eddie shrugged.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I just want you to know you have the power here, Buck. Imprinting isn't everything. If you aren’t interested...I’ll respect that.”

Buck laughed and bumped their shoulders together. “Yeah, it really feels like you're respecting boundaries right now.” 

Eddie put his forehead on Buck’s chest and chuckled. “Sorry. It’s...instinct. If you had any idea what kind of willpower it’s taken not to kiss you for the last month?” He didn’t finish the statement, and Buck, ever reckless, and maybe under the influence of a strange mer hormone contact high, his skin tingling with the implication, said.

“Then do it.”

Eddie’s head came up, his eyes searching Buck’s. Buck wasn’t sure what he saw swimming in the depths, but he heard the question, communicated as loudly and clearly as if Eddie had spoken it out loud. It wasn't mer telepathy. It was just them. He let his eyes slip closed. His hand came up, tentative, and a little afraid, to touch at the short hair at the base of Eddie’s skull. He heard Eddie’s hummed approval as the mer leaned in the last inch to touch their lips together.

It was nothing, just the barest pressure, and yet it was everything, a plug-in, the circuit connect on a generator. Buck drew in a sharp breath while kaleidoscopes erupted behind his eyelids. He wanted and was suddenly sure that he had never known what true want was before this moment. He trembled and leaned in to meet the kiss, tilted his head to press deeper, but Eddie was already drawing back, putting a step between them that now seemed cruel.

Buck had to steady himself. He fumbled on the bottle as he set his beer aside, took in gulps of air to slow his racing heartbeat.

“That’s...um...wow.” He managed. Eddie didn’t laugh at his joke. If anything, he looked more serious as he regarded Buck.

“It’s a lot.” Eddie conceded carefully. Buck felt a small flash of wariness from him. He was worried Buck might feel overwhelmed by the intensity. Had Shannon?

Buck wiped a hand over his face. Was he sweating? He took another deep breath. “Yeah. But it's good a lot.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

Buck grinned. “Yeah.”

“Hey Dad.” Christopher said from the doorway, startling them both. “Do you think Buck wants some ice cream?”

Eddie laughed and shared a speaking look with Buck, while Buck was taking a sip of beer and silently grateful Christopher hadn’t come in thirty seconds ago. 

“I think _you_ want ice cream.” Eddie said, already reaching to get the bowls down. Christopher didn’t deny it and happily went to fetch the spoons. 

* * *

  
  


The next morning, Buck strode into the firehouse, feeling like he was walking on air. His head was clear, he'd slept well, and there was still a pleasant tingle on his lips from when Eddie had kissed him goodbye at the door last night. Imaginary, probably, but Buck found himself rubbing a knuckle against his bottom lip half a dozen times already just getting ready for work. He couldn't find it in himself to be bothered by it.

He spotted Chim at the engine and waved. Maybe a little overenthusiastic. Chim half-waved and gave him a strange look. Buck was about to ask what was wrong when Eddie was suddenly in his space. And it wasn’t just a walk-up, Eddie was _in_ his space, cupping Buck’s jaw with his big hand and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. Buck’s stomach dropped and the world for a few glorious seconds stopped following the laws of gravity. Part of him had been afraid that he’d just imagined this, the connection, the chemistry. But no, this was proof positive, that they were real, that this was real.

Then Eddie was gone, slapping Buck’s arm and saying. “Captain wants an inventory.” Like nothing had happened. 

Buck touched his fingers to his lips and tried to figure out what the best response was, because ‘okay’ was safest, but sounded really lame even in his head. And ‘come back here, I’m not done with you’, really wasn’t appropriate workplace banter.

Someone wolf-whistled from behind him. When Buck turned, every eye in the department was watching them. He felt his face heat. He turned to Eddie, who looked cool as a fucking cucumber beside the smirk on his face. The proprietary bastard.

“You coming, Buck?” Eddie commented mildly, raised an eyebrow, and then sauntered off to go change into his uniform. This prompted more whistles.

“Stow it, Chimney.” Eddie called.

Meanwhile, Buck was starting to wonder what exactly he’d gotten himself into.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Let me know if I missed a typo or forgot to keep a tense, or if you're enjoying the story.  
> Feedback is so very appreciated! <3


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